Lacking Tragedy

She tried to comfort her friend. Really, she did. Kind words were spoken. Gentle words on a friendly, familiar tongue. But she might as well have been speaking a different language. Her friend continued crying about a close relative that she'd lost. What could possibly be said to make her feel better?

She though that, maybe, her friend was just inconsolable. Not so uncommon, right? Losing a dear aunt would send anyone into uncontrolled hysterics. And what friend, no matter how good, could stop those impossible tears?

Her friend was inconsolable. That was all. She had tried the best she could. Trying every method in the book to make her friend stop crying. Make her smile. Make her brave. She had squeezed every ounce of sympathy and empathy out of her body and poured it onto her friend.

But that was it, wasn't it? Empathy? Understanding how that person is feeling in order to make them realize they're not alone.

Which was just something she couldn't do, as much as she'd rather not admit it.

She'd never lost anyone. At least, anyone close. Her friends had never died because of a drunk driver. All of her grandparents had died before she could really get to know them. The rest of her family was perfectly healthy. Her heart had never been broken. She's never known true, heart wrenching pain. She was a blank slate. Because who can possibly know true, unadulterated joy when they'd never been at the brink of clinical depression?

So what was there to do? Playing at empathy, lying to those that need comfort and love, is practically as bad as complete apathy. What help are you then? None. None at all. Because what could possibly be said?

Sympathy, she could handle. Cradling her best friend in her arms and trying to prove and promise that she, at least, would always be there. But that would also be a false promise. A kind of lie. Just like the empathy. How could she ever guarantee that she would still be there tomorrow? Next week? Month? Year? Who says she won't die tomorrow?

She never realized how awful feeling no pain in life was. Those that have gone through too much would disagree. No tragedies is a gift. A gift! Something to be appreciated and thankful for.

But never had she hated a gift so much as she did today.

So eventually, she stopped saying anything. Stopped trying to assure her friend she'd always be there. That her aunt wouldn't want her to be crying over her death. That she'd want to hear her laugh all the way from wherever she is now. She just hugged her friend in complete silence and let the tears stain her shirt.

Because really, what could she possibly say?